


rewrite our history

by fornevertash



Series: Kinkalot 2020🌶 [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, CEO Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Desperation, Kinkalot 2020, M/M, Pining Arthur, Pining Merlin (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting (Merlin), Writer Merlin (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25963783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fornevertash/pseuds/fornevertash
Summary: Arthur sneers, “You don’t even know your own characters, Merlin. Myrddin loves Artorius and Artorius loves Myrddin. Your entire fanbase agrees. There’s so much fanart and fanfiction rewriting your shitty ending on the web, it’s honestly ridiculous.”
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Kinkalot 2020🌶 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900918
Comments: 34
Kudos: 315
Collections: Kinkalot 2020





	rewrite our history

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kinkalot 2020 Bingo Challenge Prompt - Desperation

When Merlin stumbles blindly down the stairs, intent on sucking down a mug of life-giving coffee, the last thing he expects to see is Arthur Pendragon, lounging on his leather couch, looking unfairly beautiful in a faded t-shirt and sweatpants.

Merlin’s breath catches in his chest, panic and delirious joy rising up to sting at the back of his throat.

“Merlin,” Arthur tilts his head and, shit, Merlin had completely forgotten the effect that the husky cadence of Arthur’s voice had on his heart.

“Arthur, w-what are you– am I dreaming? Holy shit… am I dead?”

“You haven’t changed, _Mer_ lin. Still an idiot,” his tone is undeniably fond. Merlin decides not to dwell on that for the moment.

“How are you in my house?”

“My hotel booking fell through so I decided I’d pay you a visit.” Then a disapproving look and Merlin almost feels seventeen again, “Your door was unlocked.”

“Ah, _okay_ ,” Merlin accepts the explanation dubiously, knowing that Arthur, now CEO of Pendragon Inc. after the death of his father, wouldn’t have any trouble finding a hotel.

“Aren’t you going to offer me tea?” Arthur pulls his arms over his head in a luxurious stretch. Merlin tries not to stare at the tantalizing slice of golden abdomen revealed by the movement. Tries and obviously fails because Arthur’s looks amused when his eyes dart back to his face.

“T-Tea… okay,” Merlin stutters, as he flees into the kitchen, chased the entire way by Arthur’s chuckle.

It’s awkward that it’s not awkward. Arthur settles into a chair and begins to read a paperback as Merlin puts on the kettle.

Merlin reminds himself not to stare but he wants so badly to drink in Arthur with his eyes, gorge himself on what he’s been missing for years.

He allows himself a peek as Arthur flips the page of his book and promptly chokes.

Arthur is reading _his book_. The book that he had written under the pseudonym Emrys. The book that featured an only slightly adapted version of Arthur as a main character. Shell-shocked, Merlin goggles as Arthur calmly turns another page.

“Why are you reading that!?”

“What?” Arthur raises an eyebrow.

“Oh...um… I just wasn’t aware that you were into fantasy novels?” Merlin squeaks.

“Usually no,” Arthur’s gaze is sharp enough to cut, “But this book... has special appeal.”

Holy shit, Arthur _knows_. Not that he’s subtle, he did name the main characters Artorius and Myrddin.

Merlin gulps, and drops the subject, because he is both unable and unwilling to tug on the messy, tangled strings that connect them.

* * *

The days blend into one another and before he knows it, Arthur has stayed at his home for two weeks. Arthur leaves every morning to head to the local branch of Pendragon Inc. and Merlin settles in front of his laptop to write. As if by some silent agreement, they don’t speak of their past. Instead, they fall easily into old patterns, teasing banter over meals, watching movies while fighting over the popcorn bowl and it is easily the happiest Merlin has been in ten years.

However, Merlin is aware of the tension rising in the background, full of words left unsaid.

It all comes to a head on a Tuesday evening.

“Myrddin shouldn’t have died,” Arthur says out-of-the-blue, “It should have been Artorius.”

Merlin freezes, his heart stuttering to a full stop. When he had written the book based on his vivid dreams, that had been the original ending. However, he had been unable to follow through with the death of even a fictional Arthur. _How could Arthur have known that?_

“Artorius is the King. Camelot needed him,” Merlin says evenly, “Myrddin served his purpose. To protect and serve his King. He died knowing that Artorius was safe, and happy with his Queen. That’s enough for him.”

“And if it’s not enough for Artorius?” Arthur’s expression is borderline dangerous.

Merlin shrugs, “Artorius would eventually recover from Myrddin’s death, just as he did when Vancelot died.”

Something vicious flashes through Arthur’s eyes, “...Why doesn’t Myrddin ever tell Artorius that he loves him?”

Merlin feels his own temper flare, “Because Myrddin knows that Artorius could never love him back!”

Arthur sneers, “You don’t even know your own characters, Merlin. Myrddin loves Artorius and Artorius loves Myrddin. Your entire fanbase agrees. There’s so much fanart and fanfiction rewriting your shitty ending on the web, it’s honestly ridiculous.”

“And what would you know about love, Arthur?” Merlin whirls to his feet, adrenaline coursing through his veins like poison. “Though you sure do know a lot about _shitty endings_!” Unable to take the expression on Arthur’s face, Merlin flees up to the relative safety of his room.

* * *

Hours later, still awake and utterly miserable, Merlin is aware of a warm body sliding in beneath his covers and an arm pulling him back flush against a hard chest.

His heart hurts so acutely that Merlin whimpers.

“You left me, Arthur,” He hates that his voice is so vulnerable, that it hitches just-so at the first syllable of Arthur's name.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

The anger is blinding, he thinks about telling Arthur to leave, to never come back, because it is _Merlin_ that didn’t have a choice. _Merlin_ who had lost his best friend and the love of his life in the blink of an eye. But then he thinks about the aching, emptiness, the bleak, all-encompassing pain of it, and he cannot even consider that path.

Arthur crushes him to his chest, mumbling apologies into his hair and Merlin is shocked to feel the damp wetness of Arthur’s tears.

When Arthur finally pulls away to look at him, Merlin cannot bring himself to meet his eyes. With aching gentleness, Arthur uses the sleeve to wipe Merlin’s face then wipes his own tears. Merlin stares at the wet patch of fabric, the commingled evidence of their pain, and his writer’s brain whirls to find the metaphor to tackle the symbolism.

Then his lips are pressed to Arthur’s and his hands shoved roughly into silky, golden hair. Arthur makes a soft noise of surprise and Merlin uses his moment of confusion to roll on top of Arthur and push his tongue inside to ravage his mouth with brutal intensity.

“Merlin wait, we need to talk!” Arthur manages to tug Merlin off of his lips by his hair, eyes wild and lips swollen.

“ _Please_ ,” Merlin says, there is a decade of need compressed in that one whispered word.

Arthur’s grip loosens reluctantly and Merlin lunges forward to capture that gorgeous mouth. His hips grind down hard against Arthur and they both moan, the friction is just too delicious.

Feeling like a man possessed, Merlin reaches boldly into Arthur’s sweatpants and pulls out his hard cock. Before Arthur can do more than blink, he’s swallowed more than half of the thick length down his throat. Merlin savours the bitter tang of Arthur’s precum, the delicious depth of his musk, and it’s better, _more_ , than he could have imagined.

“Fuck Merlin,” Arthur groans, “Slow down, please.” But Merlin’s desperation has reached a dizzying fever pitch, he’s beyond stopping, beyond even slowing down. The blowjob becomes wetter, sloppier, and Merlin moans like a whore, enjoying the sounds that Arthur makes in response to the vibrations. He unzips his fly and reaches in to pull free his cock, using the copious pre-cum leaking from his slit to ease the slide as he pumps himself hard and tight.

Arthur comes with a loud cry and Merlin swallows every drop. Arthur is so beautiful, breathing heavily and still shaking from his orgasm, and Merlin wants to ruin him. Merlin leans backwards on his heels and pumps his cock until he’s coming all over Arthur’s softening cock and abdomen. He savours the dirty image of Arthur’s cock covered in his seed, like a mark of ownership, before leaning down to clean his cum off of golden skin with broad swipes of his tongue.

“Fuck,” Arthur mutters in awe, “That was… fuck.”

Merlin collapses bonelessly next to him and Arthur immediately pulls him into his arms, tucking Merlin snug against his chest.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” Arthur whispers.

Merlin looks up, eyes wide and questioning.

“That day on your seventeenth birthday—That day you kissed me was the best day of my life. But... my father saw us. He threatened you, Merlin. Threatened to hurt you if I pursued a relationship with you. Hell,” Arthur’s laugh is bitter, “He told me if I even spoke to you, he’d have his men break your legs.”

Merlin feels tears gather in his eyes, “You could have told me.”

“No,” Arthur tugs him even closer, “I couldn’t have. You would have refused to let me go. I had to leave to protect you.”

“...And _now_?” Merlin asks softly, “Why are you back now?”

“Because,” Arthur dips his head to whisper the words against Merlin’s mouth. “Artorius loves Myrddin. _Arthur loves Merlin_.”

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, this is a reincarnation!fic. But also not. Yeah. I just want the babies to be happy. Please let me know what you think. This one was... difficult to work through. Still unsure.


End file.
